


the thaw

by dizzyondreams



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Fake/Pretend Relationship, M/M, Oral Sex, where jean and eren get stuck in the snow then fake boyfriend it up at a wedding basically
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-03
Updated: 2015-01-06
Packaged: 2018-03-05 05:32:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 11,447
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3107921
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dizzyondreams/pseuds/dizzyondreams
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>“Yeah, well, at least you didn’t sacrifice your Saturday morning in bed to trek across the state to some bullshit wedding where I have to be your fake boyfriend.” Jean grumbled. God, saying it out loud like that made it seem even stupider than it was.</i>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> to provide some context: jean and eren are like 27 year old deadbeats who lowkey refuse to grow up and therefore just kinda...bum around together a lot and have done for years... they live in chicago and the springfield they drive to is springfield, illinois btw
> 
> enjoy!

It was 6am, and someone was banging loudly and repeatedly on Jean’s front door. He mumbled a sleepy, “Fuck off,” rolled over and went back to sleep.

One dream where he was kissing Scarlett Johansson later, and Jean was being rudely shaken awake while being shouted at by what was probably a murderer. He thrust his hand out in the general region of their crotch, and grinned into the pillow at the following cry of pain.

“Jean, you piece of shit.” The murderer grunted in a very familiar voice. “What’d you do that for.”

With a long-suffering sigh, Jean rolled over onto his side and cracked his eye open to the hilarious image of Eren Jaeger curled up on his bedroom floor, looking pained. He yawned and stretched.

“’Morning, Jaeger.” He murmured, scrubbing a hand through his hair before freezing. “How the fuck did you get in?”

Eren gave him a dirty look and manoeuvred himself into a sitting position. “Connie let me in.”

“Connie’s a bastard.” Jean announced, flopping onto his back with an exhale. “What d’you want.”

Eren shuffled closer to the bed, screwing up his face a little. His nose and cheeks were pink from the cold, and the woolly hat he had crammed over his impressive amount of hair had little reindeer horns on it. He looked fucking ridiculous.

“It’s a long story.” He started, before Jean cut him off with a groan.

“Give me the short one, I wanna get back to sleep before noon.” Eren’s stories tended to be long and confusing, going off on tangents without ever getting back to the real point. Eren was a _talker_.

Eren scowled at him, but relented, thankfully. “Fine.” He said shortly. “My ex is getting married and invited me to the wedding.”

“Congrats.” Jean mumbled, drawing the covers over his head. “I dunno why you came all the way across town in the snow to tell me this, but.”

“No, Jean,” Eren yanked the covers away from his face, making Jean grumble and roll away. Seriously, 6am. “I need you to come with me and be my fake boyfriend.”

Well, that was to the fucking point. Jean blinked at him. God, he looked entirely fucking earnest. “No.” He said shortly, and pulled the covers over his head again. “I’m going back to sleep now.”

“ _Jean_.” Eren whined, tugging at the covers. “I’m serious. I told him I was with someone and he told me to bring them.”

“Why the fuck would you say that?” Jean shot back, exasperated. “No actually, I don’t care. Goodbye.”

Eren was silent for a minute, and Jean let himself believe that he’d left and let Jean get on with his very tenuous sleep schedule. But of course, Eren Jaeger didn’t care about other people’s needs, and just barrelled on.

“Jean, this guy broke my heart I gotta show him that I can get somebody better than him!” Jean pulled the covers off his face and gave Eren a sly smile. “I mean! Objectively!” He cried, shoving Jean’s shoulder. “As long as you keep your mouth shut you’ll be fine!”

“Oh will I?” Jean muttered, propping himself up on his elbows and giving Eren a slow smile. “As long as I stand there and look pretty, right?”

Eren made a frustrated sound and buried his face in his hands. Jean snorted and considered the possibilities of embarrassing Eren in front of his old friends. It was attractive, he had to say. Let slip a couple of Eren’s drunken misdemeanours, the time he puked in a fountain after eating seafood and cried about it. Yeah, it could be a great opportunity.

“I’ll come.” He said generously, giving Eren a wide smile as his head snapped up, an expression of disbelief on his face. “I will be your fake boyfriend and we will blow your ex out of the water by how perfect I am.”

“Okay, don’t push it.” Eren warned, getting to his feet. He stood there awkwardly for a moment, before blurting, “Thank you, man. This is kind of a ridiculous thing to ask but-”

“Don’t worry about it, darling.” Jean drawled, sinking back into his pillows and smiling at Eren’s scowl. “When’s the wedding?”

Eren rubbed the back of his neck, glancing away. “Uh, tonight?”

Jean closed his eyes and groaned, turning to stare at Eren with what he hoped were dead enough eyes to convey his intense apathy for anything happening short notice. “What, and you couldn’t tell me any sooner?”

“I was working myself up to it!” Eren cried, glancing away. “It’s in Springfield.” He added after a moment, sounding abashed. Jean rolled his eyes so hard he was surprised they didn’t _fall out_.

“That’s like a fucking three hour drive, man.” He groaned, pressing his face into his pillow. “Literally fuck you.” Jesus, Eren had the worst timing for things.

“Yeah well, wedding’s at twelve so we better get a fuckin’ move on.” Eren muttered, kicking the leg of Jean’s bed. Jean didn’t think he could groan in displeasure anymore if he tried. He settled for bracing the cold and flinging his leg out of the covers to try and kick Eren. Sadly, he’d anticipated it and was standing in the doorway. “I’ll put a pot of coffee on.” He said, and disappeared to act like he fucking owned the place, or something. 

Jean gave himself five minutes to wonder why the fuck he’d agreed to this (no amount of embarrassing Eren made up for waking up before the sun came up) before dragging himself out of bed and into the shower.

\---------

“I don’t think this thing even fits me anymore.” Jean grumbled as he hung his suit up in the back of Eren’s little car. “Last time I wore it was like, ten years ago for a funeral. I’m pretty sure I could fit through doorways without ducking ten years ago.”

“Wear your jeans and the shirt if it doesn’t.” Eren said offhandedly. “Doesn’t matter that much.” He threw his overnight bag onto the backseat before sliding into the drivers seat. Jean followed suit, brushing a load of crap off the passenger side before closing the door behind him.

“This car’s a tip.” He commented, and pulled his scarf up over his face. “It’s fucking freezing, too.”

Eren shot him a lopsided grin. “Yeah, the heating doesn’t work.” He turned the key in the ignition. “Hope you wore warm enough clothes.”

Jean wondered if it was too late to back out. He watched his apartment slip away from him as he bemoaned the fact that he was about to voluntarily spend a lot of time with Eren Jaeger, of all people.

“It’s sure coming down, huh?” Eren muttered, as he paused at a junction, indicator ticking. He nudged the windscreen wipers up a notch, and Jean winced at the high-pitched squeal they made. “Let’s hope it doesn’t get too bad that we can’t make it to the wedding.”

Jean just grunted, not feeling very talkative at 8am with only two cups of coffee under his belt. Eren gestured to a thermos rolling around on the back seat, which Jean grabbed reverently. It was gonna be a long trip if he wasn’t fully caffeinated for it. And a long night if he wasn’t properly drunk for it.

“Can you get the map out of the glove box?” Eren asked, eyes on the road. He was a terrible driver, almost impressively bad. Jean had to give him that. It was a miracle that he’d passed his test in the first place, really. It just meant that he couldn’t take his eyes off the road for a second and still drove with his hands at ten and two and sometimes forgot that he was supposed to drive on the right. The amount of near death experiences Jean had had in Eren’s car were too many to count.

After shovelling out an array of useless crap (including but not limited to: several crushed flat Chinese take out boxes, possibly used tissues, an inexplicable moldy piece of toast that Jean flung out the window while gagging, and a couple of socks) Jean finally found a slightly dog-eared map and spread it across his knees. He stared blankly.

“I can’t read maps.” He said.

“Shit.” Eren replied.

\------------

One Google maps search later and he and Eren were driving as fast as his shitty little car could handle. Anything over forty made the frame rattle worryingly, so they made slow progress made slower by the thickening snow. They could barely see more than a few metres in front of them, which gave Jean an uneasy claustrophobic feeling.

“I’ve got a bad feeling about all of this.” He muttered over the music playing on the radio, repeating it louder when Eren cocked his head to the side questioningly. 

“You have a bad feeling about everything, Kirschtein.” Eren said with a snort, at the exact moment he wrinkled up his nose and sniffed the air suspiciously. “D’you smell that?” He asked, shooting Jean a curious look. Jean snorted.

“Eren, I barely trust myself to inhale in this car. What does it smell like?”

Eren frowned. “Burning.” He said simply.

“What?” Jean said, taking his chances and sniffing at the air. “That’s burning rubber.” He said flatly, a feeling of resigned dread settling over him. Of course, nothing could ever go easily when it came to Eren ‘walking disaster’ Jaeger. Eren shook his head, puzzled. “Pull over.” Jean urged. The last thing they needed was to break down in the middle of the highway.

Eren pulled over onto the hard shoulder, the car moving slowly, like Eren could barely steer it. Jean tipped his head back against the headrest and closed his eyes. Fucking incredible. Unbelievable.

Eren switched the engine off, and they sat there for a moment, the snow falling around them, cars whizzing past. Eren cleared his throat. “Feels like the power steering’s gone.” He muttered, looking down at the wheel.

Jean sighed. “Of course it does.” He said, and busied himself with trying to find the car manual amongst the crap on the floor.

To no one’s surprise, the car stubbornly refused to gain any control over its steering. Eren rested his forehead on the steering wheel. Jean tried very hard to resist the urge to smack him.

“We can’t drive it like this in the snow.” Eren mumbled uselessly. Jean groaned.

“When was the last time you had this thing serviced?” Jean asked dully, having abandoned his search for the car manual completely.. Eren shrugged and made a sad little noise into the steering wheel.

“I have the worst luck.” He moaned. 

“Yeah, well, at least you didn’t sacrifice your Saturday morning in bed to trek across the state to some bullshit wedding where I have to be your fake boyfriend.” Jean grumbled. God, saying it out loud like that made it seem even stupider than it was.

Eren sat back in his seat with a resigned expression. “Let’s get out to check under the hood.”

Jean sighed and nodded, opening the door and scowling at the sudden blast of cold. He never thought a time would come where he’d appreciate the dubious warmth of Eren’s car, but then again he’d never in a million years be able to make up this ridiculous scenario.

“It’s fucking freezing.” He complained as he joined Eren at the front of the car. Already, there was a light dusting of snow over the roof and bonnet. If this didn’t get sorted out soon they’d probably end up snowed in, which wasn’t an attractive prospect.

“What now.” Eren mumbled, hands stuffed in the pockets of his coat, just the tip of his nose visible past his various knitwear. Jean, personally, wished he’d brought more clothes. He was fucking _freezing_.

“Pop the hood.” He suggested, keeping his hands in the slight warmth of his jacket pockets. Eren had gloves, and Jean did not. He wasn’t risking the top layer of his hands touching the car, not when this was all Eren’s fault.

With Eren leaning into the car to try and find the lever to open the bonnet, Jean checked the time on his phone. They had about two hours to get to the wedding, and they’d probably be on time if this car bullshit was sorted out in good time. 

The bonnet opened, and Jean’s thoughts were interrupted by the sudden inhalation of a good lungful of black smoke. He reeled back, coughing, eyes watering.

“What the fuck.” He spluttered as Eren appeared by his side again, waving a hand in front of his face. 

“That’s smoke.” Eren said levelly. “Fuck.”

“I’m calling Marco.” Jean announced. Marco was the obvious voice of reason here. “He’ll know what to do.” He was scrolling through his contacts when Eren snorted.

“What’s Marco gonna do? We’re stuck here, he’s not gonna drive out to us.” Eren kicked at the snowy ground, expression considering. Jean put his phone away; grudgingly admitting that Eren was right. “I’m gonna call Armin.” Eren said seriously, getting his phone out. Jean rolled his eyes.

It took a while for Armin to pick up, both of them standing there and shuffling their feet against the cold. The smoke had cleared, but Jean didn’t know jack shit about cars and the inside just looked like a mess of wires to him.

“Hello, Armin.” Jean turned at the sound of Eren’s voice, watched him furrow his brows at whatever Armin was saying. “No, the car broke down.” Jean hunched his shoulders against the cold, trying to find at least a little bit of humour in the situation. He was coming up mostly blank, but the look on Eren’s face after he hung up improved his mood a little.

“What’d he say?” Jean asked, shuffling closer to Eren.

“Told me to stop being stupid and call triple A.” Eren muttered, clumsily typing the address into Google on his phone. “I don’t know the number.”

“Well, if you don’t mind I’m gonna sit in the car and try to regain blood flow back to my extremities.” Jean announced, brushing past Eren to open the back door and clamber inside. He shoved Eren’s bag onto the passenger seat and drew his legs up to his chest, toeing off his shoes so snow didn’t get on the seats. God, he was unbelievably cold. He was so not a winter guy. Especially when it included being stranded on the hard shoulder in a car with no heating and no prospect of moving any time soon.

After about five minutes Eren climbed into the car next to him, letting in a blast of cold air that Jean could have _killed_ him for. 

“So?” Jean asked, huddling up on the opposite end of the seat and crossing his arms to try and keep _some_ heat inside his stupid skinny body. Eren didn’t have this problem, he ran hot enough that he could probably brave this cold in a hoodie and nothing else. 

“Because of the snow we’re gonna have to wait a couple hours for anyone to turn up.” Eren said with a sigh, leaning over the seats to grab a blanket out of the boot. He offered half to Jean, who took it gladly, even if it meant sitting closer to Eren. “So we’ll miss the wedding but probably get there for the reception.”

“Sucks.” Jean said blandly. Like he’d wanted to watch the Ultimate Show of Heterosexuality this stunning afternoon. “At least you get to show me off later though, huh?”

Eren scowled and rolled his eyes. “You seem way too fucking eager to be shown around as my trophy boyfriend, you know.”

Jean shrugged and spread his hands, smirking. “Hey, it’s not every day that a guy’s asked to be someone’s fake boyfriend because he’s hot and charming.”

Eren scoffed and turned to stare out the window. “Oh, you’re definitely not fucking charming.”

“Oh?” Jean laughed. “But I’m hot?”

“You’re such a shit.” Eren muttered, reaching out his leg to kick at Jean, who sat through it patiently. He probably deserved it.

“So what now.” Jean asked, after an appropriate period of silence and after Eren had stopped looking a little embarrassed. Eren shrugged and started rooting around in the trash on the floor. Jean watched with barely concealed disgust. “Try not to get staph before the reception.” He muttered, just as Eren produced a pack of cards from inside a single shoe.

“Yeah?” He raised his eyebrows and wiggled the pack. Jean shrugged.

“Sure. No strip poker though.” He laughed when Eren rolled his eyes, and accepted the cards to shuffle.

\-----------

Barely a game of Gin later, and Jean’s hands were so cold he was fumbling with his cards. After the fourth time he dropped them, he gave up and threw them down onto the seat between them.

“My fingers are about to freeze off.” He announced, and promptly stuffed them in his armpits in an attempt to save them. Eren shrugged and gathered the cards up, chucked them into the boot. God, how Eren lived with himself and his ever-growing trash heap that was his life, Jean couldn’t fathom.

“You know...if you’re really cold we could cuddle to y’know,” Eren shrugged at Jean’s growing disbelief. “Share body heat.”

“I don’t know what kind of romcom you think this is, but that’s not happening.” Jean muttered, steadfastly ignoring the fact that he was currently playing out the done-to-death trope of the ‘fake boyfriend’. 

Eren shrugged. “Suit yourself. I’m fucking warm, I don’t need to share body heat.”

“Good for you.” Jean bit back, silently saying goodbye to the tip of his nose, which was currently reaching arctic temperatures on his face.

It took around about ten minutes before Jean gave up and grudgingly shuffled closer to Eren. Eren gave him a big shit-eating grin and moved so that he was sitting against the door, legs thrown over Jean’s knees. It was kind of uncomfortable, and super awkward, but at least Jean was benefiting from some of that famous Jaeger warmth. He no longer felt like his teeth were gonna break from chattering, anyway. He moved a little closer, so Eren was practically sitting in his lap, savouring the warmth as feeling returned to his fingers.

“How are you always so warm.” He mumbled, tipping his head back against the headrest and curling his hand over Eren’s knee. “It’s fucking creepy.”

Eren laughed, settling back against the door and slinging an arm around Jean’s shoulders. “I’ll have you know that my father was constantly worried about me as a child because I always had a temperature. It’s not an easy life, I’ll tell you.”

“Sounds terrible.” Jean mumbled, thumb skating over a tear in Eren’s jeans, denim and skin. “So what’s this ex like? Mr. Bicurious or what?”

Eren snorted. “More like Mr. Bisexual. That wasn’t the problem though, it’s not like he had this Big Gay Freakout and ditched me.” Eren sighed, fingers curling unconsciously on Jean’s nape. “I guess he just got tired of my shit.”

“Anyone would.” Jean said placatingly, and grinned and flinched when Eren pinched his neck in retaliation.

“Jesus, have some damn tact.” Eren grumbled. 

“I wasn’t asking for a sob story.” Jean muttered. “Just wanted to know what the dude was like since I’m crashing his wedding and all.”

“Well, he’s enough of a dick that I felt I had to lie about having a boyfriend.” Eren bit back. It was obviously a touchy subject, so Jean let it drop, rubbed his thumb over Eren’s knee in what he hoped was a comforting gesture.

“We could always ditch.” Jean suggested, staring out at the snow. He thought about climbing back into his warm bed, maybe cajoling Connie to leave him alone so he could get some peace and quiet. He sighed. God, Jean loved his bed.

“Nah.” Eren muttered. “We’re already gonna miss the main event, might as well turn up for the reception.”

Jean hummed and they lapsed into silence, Eren pulling his phone out to scroll through Twitter, Jean watching his breath cloud in the cold air. He was warming up now, or at least he felt a lot less like his internal organs were trying to retract to warmer climates. That’s what happened, right? Jean had slept through high school biology.

“You know, I think this is the longest time we’ve spent together without arguing.” Eren murmured thoughtfully, eyes still on the screen of his phone. No doubt livetweeting their predicament. Eren was addicted to social networking.

“I guess so.” Jean replied, tipping his head back to survey the stained roof of the car. God, it was disgusting in here. Jean was probably breathing in mildly dangerous mold spores as they spoke. “Only because I’m half dead from exposure, and the other half from waking up before sunrise.”

Eren shot him a concerned little look. “You’re still cold?” Jean, taken aback by his seemingly genuine concern, shrugged. “Have my hat.” Eren said, and pulled it off to toss at Jean. 

“Okay.” Jean said, a little surprised, and pulled the hat down over his ears. Hey, a pre-warmed hat was a pre-warmed hat, and Jean wasn’t warm enough to argue about it.

Eren’s hair now stood out in a crazy static halo around his head, and Jean itched to smooth it down. He’d always had a lot of hair, the sort of kid who came away from the hairdressers looking exactly the same as when he went in. It struck Jean that he’d known Eren a very long time. He remembered back when Eren was eighteen or nineteen, back when he was going through his pseudo-hippie phase and listened solely to the Grateful Dead and wore crop tops and had little braids in his hair. Jean had thought it was kinda cute, actually, at the time. He stole a glance at Eren again and wondered if he still thought he was cute.

“We’re fucking old.” He commented, running his thumb along Eren’s calf, wondering if his legs were still as muscled as they had been when he’d played football every day, until he’d torn a ligament in his knee and had to stop.

Eren snorted and ran a hand through his hair, making it stick up wilder than ever. “Twenty seven isn’t old. I’m just getting into my _stride_ , man.” He cracked his knuckles and laughed when Jean flinched at the sound.

“Please, Sasha and Connie are engaged, your ex is getting married. Armin’s ten years away from ruling the world, probably. Marco works a fucking desk job.” Jean sighed. “Maybe you should get married too. Maybe it’ll settle you down a bit.”

“Maybe _you_ should get married.” Eren shot back, then he was silent for a few minutes. Probably ruminating on how much of a bum he was. Maybe Jean was just projecting. He was currently having a midlife crisis. “I think I’d need a boyfriend if I wanted to settle down.” Eren said finally, staring down at his phone.

“I can totally hook you up with someone.” Jean said confidently. Hell, maybe if Eren got a boyfriend he’d stop showing up unannounced to Jean’s flat and dragging him off on stupid things like this. “You like anyone? I’m a great wingman.”

Eren laughed and slapped a hand over his eyes, grinning. “I don’t think you could hook me up with the guy I like, Jean.” He huffed out a little laugh and lowered his hand, went back to his phone.

“Are you doubting my wingman abilities?” Jean asked, glancing over at Eren at the exact moment he looked up from his phone. They locked gazes, Eren’s dark green eyes heavy on his. He’d always had the most unsettlingly intense gaze, and Jean broke it after a moment, trying to ignore the blush spreading warm over his face. What the fuck was that?

“I’m doubting your wingman abilities.” Eren said matter-of-factly, and just like that, the weird tension broke. Jean slapped Eren on the back of the head, making Eren bare his teeth at him then laugh.

“How much longer ‘til triple A get here?” Jean mumbled, slouching down in the seat a little to rest his feet on the centre console. 

“Dunno.” Eren muttered, shooting him a quick look before going back to his phone. “It’s been like an hour.”

Jean groaned and pulled the blanket up to his chest. “If they don’t get here soon they’ll be dealing with two frozen corpses.” He muttered. Eren snorted.

“One frozen corpse.” He corrected, shooting Jean a sly look. “I’m toasty.”

“I’m seriously gonna murder you if you don’t shut up about how warm you are.” Jean told him, hoping his glare looked threatening coming from between a woolly reindeer hat and an itchy plaid blanket. Judging by Eren’s laugh, it didn’t.

“Come here.” Eren said, and pulled at Jean’s jacket until Eren was completely in his lap, his shoulder just under Jean’s chin. “Better?” He asked, as Jean tried not to find the smell of Eren’s aftershave attractive. How could a guy who drove around in (and lived! Jean avoided Eren’s kitchen at _all costs_ ) a literal trash heap smell so good?

“This is fucking gay.” Was all he said, before resting his chin on Eren’s shoulder and curling his arm around his waist. “Should I say no homo now or after the brojob.” He muttered. Eren snorted.

“I didn’t know you were after a brojob from me, Jean.” He said lightly, glancing down at Jean with a lazy grin. Jean huffed and looked away.

“Shut up.” He muttered, and hoped to god they’d hear the triple A guys before they found them all cuddled up like this. Knowing Jean’s fabulous luck, they wouldn’t.

\------------

They didn’t hear the triple A guy, mostly because Jean was snoring away under the warm weight of Eren, who was fiddling with his phone and didn’t notice. Jean awoke to a hesitant rap on the window, and jumped when he spotted the face peering in at them. 

“Fuck.” He muttered, pushing at Eren until he grumbled and practically fell off him into the shit on the floor of his car. Jean held up a hand to the guy outside, who shrugged and backed away, looking weirded out.

He looked over at Eren, who was picking a banana skin off his hand from when he’d fallen, and closed his eyes, exhaling. “You could’ve woken me up.” He said, fishing around on the floor of the car for his shoes. “Don’t try and tell me you didn’t hear the van.”

Eren shrugged, pulling his shoes on as well. “You were fast asleep, I didn’t want to bother you.” He muttered, before opening the car door and pushing Jean out of the way so he could get out. Jean considered staying inside, but followed grudgingly. He didn’t want to be left in the car like some kid while the adults talked.

Eren and the guy, whose nametag read Mark, were standing in front of the car, Eren gesturing as he described the black smoke and how the steering had gone. He spotted Jean with a smile.

“Hey, open the hood for us?” He asked, and Jean complied before joining them by the car. The snow was still driving down and Jean hunched his shoulders against the cold, grateful for the fact that Eren hadn’t asked for his ridiculous hat back yet. Besides, with the amount of hair the guy had, he probably didn’t even need a hat.

Mark poked around in the mess of wires and machinery in the car for a little while, before resurfacing to diagnose a broken fan belt. He rattled off a load of car jargon to a bewildered Eren, who just nodded and tried to look like he knew what the guy was saying. From what Jean could infer, as someone who’d never even passed his test and therefore had a very tenuous knowledge of cars, Eren’s car was on its way out anyway. He cast a glance at the ugly old thing, feeling a little sorry for it. Eren had been driving it since he was seventeen and seemed an odd fixture of their lives. Mostly Jean was worried over who he was gonna bum lifts off of now.

“So, can you just replace the fan belt?” Eren asked hopefully, all hunched up in his jacket against the cold. Jean considered giving him his hat back, but decided he’d need his brain not frozen for this.

Mark grimaced. “This thing’s a death trap.” He said doubtfully. “I don’t think it’s even legal…”

“We need to get to a wedding.” Jean butted in urgently, noticing Eren about to scowl. He was _very_ protective of his car. “Our wedding!” He said desperately, as Mark continued to hesitate. Eren shot him a look like he was crazy, while Mark was looking at the two of them in confusion.

“In _that?_ ” He asked in astonishment. Jean mustered up his best offended face.

“Well, we’re a little short of cash right now.” He said, catching Eren nodding out of the corner of his eye. “But does that mean we shouldn’t get married? Do you not want us to get married, Mark?”

Mark shook his head, eyes wide. “What, no, just. Is that even legal?” He asked, dumbfounded.

“Are you gonna fix the belt or what.” Eren cut in, crossing his arms over his chest. Mark glanced at him, then back to Jean, and sighed.

“Fine, I’ll need your contact details for billing, etcetera.” He waved Eren over to his truck. “But don’t tell anyone I let you drive away in this thing.” He said tiredly. Jean took that as his cue to escape back to the dubious warmth of the car to try and bring his fingers back to above freezing point. 

They were well and truly late by the time Mark fixed them up and sent them on their way, looking unhappy about the whole situation. Eren reprimanded Jean on springing the whole ‘getting married’ thing on him without any warning, which Jean sat through in stony silence which he only broke to point out, “Hey, I just saved your piece of shit car, asshole. Be a little grateful.” After that, Eren quietened down into a moody silence, and Jean channel surfed on the radio for anything that wasn’t static as they sped along.

They arrived in Springfield mid-afternoon, and got lost twice on the way to the hotel where the reception was being held. It was kinda fancy looking, and Jean felt extra grubby in his shabby coat and ripped up jeans as they navigated the welcome desk.

“We’re here for uh, the wedding party?” Eren said doubtfully, resting his elbows on the desk and leaning forward a little. The well-dressed woman behind the desk gave him a look of distaste and raised her eyebrows. 

“The Neil party?” She asked, tapping away at her computer. Eren nodded, rocking back on his heels.

“I reserved a room.” He added. “Under Jaeger. With an E.’ He added, leaning forward to look at her computer screen. She gave him a sharp look and he stepped away, hands raised.

“Third floor, room sixty-four.” She said, handing a set of keys over. “The reception is in conference room B just down the hall there.” She pointed across the foyer. “You can’t miss it.” She finished, giving them a fixed smile that they took as their cue to move on.

“Room first?” Eren suggested, like that hadn’t been the plan all along. Jean grunted in agreement, and they took the lift to their room, Eren making faces in the glass and Jean trying incredibly hard not to snap at him. His lack of sleep was wearing on him, combined with the fact that he hadn’t had a cigarette all day; he was feeling distinctly cranky. He just hoped the booze wasn’t too expensive at the bar. There was no way in hell he was doing this sober.

Eren came to a stop outside their room, and Jean looked down at him questioningly, wondering why he wasn’t opening the door. “Did you lose the ability to use keys?” He asked condescendingly. Eren shot him a look that suggested he could’ve tried harder with that one.

“No, it’s just I thought I should warn you that I booked a double. Before you go in and see it and start freaking out about like, spooning or whatever else you lose masculinity points on.”

Jean stared stupidly at him for a minute, trying to work out which part of that sentence he needed to disagree with the most. In the end he grabbed the keys out of Eren’s hand, opened the door and shoved past him with a muttered, “Shut up, I’m an excellent big spoon.”

They dumped their bags on the double bed and changed quickly, aware of how late they really were. Eren tried to tame his hair in the bathroom for a record ten minutes, coming out looking exactly the same as when he’d went in, albeit a little damp. Jean just snorted.

“It wouldn’t hurt for you to get a haircut like, once a millennium.” He muttered, ducking into the bathroom to run his hands through his hair, check that he looked good enough to be Eren’s arm candy for the night. 

“I always come out of the barbers looking weird.” Eren complained, leaning up against the doorframe of the bathroom, fiddling with his tie. “Besides, it costs a fortune.”

Jean shot him a tired look. “Shut up, I know Mikasa cuts your hair for you. That’s why it’s so bad.”

Eren hummed thoughtfully. “She does not have a delicate touch with the scissors, I’ll give you that.” Jean snorted and crossed over to him, doing his tie for him before smoothing it flat against his chest. Eren shot him a look through his eyelashes, corner of his mouth quirking up in amusement. “Domestic.” He commented, and Jean scoffed before leaving the bathroom to try his suit on.

It turned out that he’d outgrown his only suit after his impressive growth spurt at the age of sixteen, which prompted the question: how had he lived to the age of twenty seven without buying a proper suit? After Eren had stopped rolling around with laughter at the good six inches of Jean’s skinny ankles and calves poking out the bottom of his suit trousers, they exited the room together, Jean in his jeans and a rather snug shirt.

“Where did the lady on the front desk say it was being held?” Eren muttered, tucking the room key into his inner pocket before glancing up at Jean expectantly.

“Room B.” Jean said, glad at least one of them had a fully functioning memory. 

They took a couple of wrong turns, ended up in a laundry room at one point, but finally found themselves standing outside conference room B, where the sound of music could be heard through the closed double doors. 

“What’s this guy’s name again?” Jean hissed to Eren, who was staring at the doors like they were the gates to some personal hell.

“Ben.” He muttered back, then took a deep breath, held it, then exhaled. “He’s an asshole who’ll probably give you a hard time, but just ignore him and let me steer the conversation away from how gross I was in school, okay?”

Jean snorted, “Like I didn’t know how gross you were in school.” He muttered, then pushed the doors open, letting the music rush out and fill the hallway.

It was a large-ish room, dimly lit and full of people. A band was butchering hits from the eighties over on the stage, and most of the people were clustered around tables or the bar. Jean took a deep breath and asked himself again why exactly he was doing this. Then Eren took his hand, palm slightly sweaty and fingers tight around his own, and Jean remembered that yeah, sometimes you’ve just gotta do stuff for friends.

“C’mon,” He muttered, giving Eren’s hand a squeeze. “Let’s find this guy, then get drunk enough so we’ll never remember this night again.”

“Good plan.” Eren said tightly, then flashed him a grin. “Remember, you’re my boyfriend. Lay it on thick, yeah?”

“I will be disgusting.” Jean promised, and then they delved into the crowd in search of Eren’s long lost ex.

He wasn’t hard to find, considering he _was_ the man of the hour and accompanied by a woman in the biggest wedding dress Jean had ever seen. Ben recognised Eren immediately and pulled him in for a big hug, clapping his hand on his back with enough force to make Eren give Jean a bug-eyed look over the guy’s shoulder.

He was a tall guy, just a little shorter than Jean, with a face that Jean usually associated with pornos. The guy was _seriously_ chiselled. Not to mention the terrible little goatee he was sporting. Jean cast a quick glance Eren’s way, trying to remember when exactly he’d dated this dude. 

“Eren Jaeger.” Ben said loudly, an arm still slung around Eren’s shoulders. “How the fuck are you?”

“Excellent.” Eren said tightly, shooting the bride a quick grin. “Congrats on finally tying this guy down.” He said. Jean snorted and tried to cover it up with a cough as Ben’s smile wavered.

Ben looked over to him at his weird half laugh/half choke and his smile stretched wider. He leaned in close to Eren, but spoke loud enough that Jean and probably every neighbouring city could hear him. The dude seriously had no indoor voice. “That isn’t Jean fucking Kirschtein.” He said amusedly, and then detached himself from an uncomfortable-looking Eren to throw an over-familiar arm around Jean’s shoulders. “Jean, I haven’t seen you since you had glasses and braces, man.” He chuckled, and Jean smiled sharply.

“Yeah, we’re dating now.” Eren cut in before Jean could make some barbed comment about Ben’s goatee.

Ben shot him a disbelieving look, then looked back to Jean, eyebrows raised in an almost comically surprised expression. “You and Kirschtein?” He asked, turning back to Eren, who nodded and reached out to tug Jean to his side again, away from Ben. “No shit?” Ben asked, and when Eren shook his head he threw his head back and laughed. “Holy shit, you two hated each other.”

“It’s not like that anymore.” Eren said, and Jean nodded and reached down to link his fingers with Eren’s. It was weird, standing next to Eren like this now that someone thought they were dating. Jean was suddenly very aware of the feel of Eren’s hand in his, the way Eren pressed against his side, that famous Jaeger warmth leeching through his thin shirt. Jean cleared his throat and cast a quick glance around the room, looking for an exit from Ben’s suggestive smile as he looked Jean up and down.

Ben was already talking again, something about the ceremony, Eren had apologised for missing it. He’d completely moved on from the topic of their relationship, and Jean wondered whether it really was that easy to believe that the two of them were together. Like, sure, back in the day when Eren was athletic and cute and some kind of a hippie, back when Jean would fight with him just because he liked being around him and that was the only way he could think of…but now? Jean snuck a glance to his side, took in Eren dressed up all nice and _mature_ -looking, that untameable hair falling into his eyes…

Oh, god. Jean snapped his gaze back to Ben and his fucking goatee, heart thudding. Oh, shit, _maybe_.

“We’re gonna go get a drink, right, Jean?” The sound of his own name snapped Jean back to reality, and when he looked down Eren was staring at him expectantly. Jean tried to school his expression into one that possibly disguised the intense epiphany he’d just had, and nodded. Yes, god. Drinks. There was no way he was gonna make it through the night sober.

“Yes, please.” He said, and let himself be dragged off to the bar, Eren’s hand hot in his.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i like to call this part pre-epiphany and the next part is post-epiphany.. i'll probs put it up within the next couple of days! hope u liked it + comments are always appreciated!
> 
> and thanks to ana for reading this over and giving me the motivation to finish it B)


	2. Chapter 2

Barely half an hour after managing to extract themselves from Ben, Eren was tugging on Jean’s elbow with a frown. Jean, who was already two tequila shots deep into the night, squinted down at him, mouthing “What?” over the noise of the band.

Eren went up on his toes to talk to him, breath hot on Jean’s ear. “Left my phone in the room, I think. Can we go look for it?”

Jean shrugged and nodded, honestly thankful that he’d get away from the noise of the reception. He followed Eren out of the room, stumbled a little on the stairs and let a laughing Eren catch his arm for balance. 

“You’re a lightweight.” He commented, fishing in the pockets of his jacket for the room key.

“Tequila makes anyone a lightweight.” Jean retorted, sitting down heavily on the bed and watching as Eren looked for his phone. He looked so clean cut and handsome in his suit, slim and dark and pretty. That absolute mass of hair the only thing that made him _Eren_.

“Stop staring.” Eren commented, disappearing into the bathroom. His voice bounced off the tiled walls, light and teasing, and it struck Jean that he loved him. It was no startling realisation, no lightbulb moment. Just a slow creeping feeling of warmth in his stomach, a slow burn in his mind. He wondered how long he’d known this, how long he’d been denying it, if he’d even been denying it. He loved Eren. The sky was blue. 

Jean wasn’t sure if he could blame it on the alcohol he’d drunk, because he’d felt it in the car, felt it in the way his heart had jumped when Eren had told Ben they were dating. 

“I’m not staring.” He replied, way too late. Eren emerged from the bathroom; phone in hand as he frowned down at it. Jean didn’t need to ask to know he was checking his social media, the addict that he was. He watched him move around the room, rolling his shoulders back in his suit jacket and scratching a hand through his hair. Little quirks that Jean had noticed long ago, like the way Eren always pursed his lips when he was thinking. 

“You are staring so hard, man.” Eren said finally, slipping his phone into his pocket and looking up at him. Something must have changed in Jean’s expression, because his turned curious as he cocked his head to the side. “Something wrong?” He asked.

Jean’s eyes flicked over Eren’s face, taking in the little scar on his temple from when Jean had pushed him over once, his lips, chapped from the cold, the tiny wrinkle of concern between his eyebrows.

“Nah.” He said finally, swallowing the words he wanted to say until they lodged uncomfortably in his chest. “Let’s get back to the party.”

\--------

Three jack and cokes into the night, and Jean was feeling pleasantly warm and drunk. Eren was at the bar, ordering shots, and had left Jean to his own devices at the table they’d claimed. Apart from the hand hold at the start of the night, they hadn’t really been any more couple-y. Before Eren had left for bar they’d been sitting close, Jean’s knees knocking into Eren’s and the taste of whisky heavy on his tongue. His hands twitched to feel the sinewy muscles of Eren’s arms after he’d rolled his sleeves up, a little pink in the cheeks as he drank. Jean was choosing to ignore the small moment of drunken clarity he’d experienced earlier in the night.

He jumped when Eren appeared next to him, balancing six shots between his fingers. 

“Impressive.” Jean commented, eyes drawn to the hollow of Eren’s throat as he leant past him to set the shot glasses gingerly down on the table. 

“I am a man of many surprising talents.” Eren said, blowing his hair out his eyes before taking his seat next to Jean. He patted the pocket of his jacket, hanging over the back of the chair. “Smoke, after this?” He pushed three shots towards Jean, who shrugged and nodded.

“This is cute.” He said, tilting the glass towards Eren before downing it, grimacing at the taste. “Vodka, seriously?”

“Probably the best date I’ve been on in a while.” Eren muttered pensively, spinning his empty shot glass between his fingers before reaching for another. “Even if it’s fake.” He amended, shooting Jean a tipsy grin over his shot. Jean just took his last shot, saying nothing, hissing through his teeth at the burn.

“Ben seemed to believe us pretty quick though.” Jean said, standing a little unsteadily before slinging his coat on. Eren followed him, cigarette between his lips before they even let themselves out through the little fire door. 

“He’s gullible.” Eren mumbled dismissively around his smoke, digging in his pockets for his lighter before giving up and leaning forward for Jean to light him up. Jean didn’t linger on the way his lips looked with smoke curling out of them, just lit his own and inhaled deeply.

The little smokers area outside was empty, and the snow was still coming down pretty thick. Jean hunched his shoulders against the cold and exhaled smoke slowly, shivering a little. Eren was inspecting one of the picnic benches, brushing snow off the seat before shrugging and sitting down. 

“Your ass is gonna get wet.” Jean mumbled behind his cigarette, and Eren just grinned up at him. God, he was always _smiling_. Even if there wasn’t anything to smile about, even when he’d been punched so hard in the mouth there was blood webbing his teeth. Jean liked it, even when that vaguely unsettling bloodstained smile had been aimed at him. He ashed onto the ground aggressively, the dark ash dirty against the new snow. He was just drunk enough to not mind the cold, just enough that the taste of smoke on his tongue was pleasant. He supposed those shots would hit him soon enough.

They smoked in silence. Eren tapped ash onto the ground, brushed some off his pants, leaving little white marks behind. He looked so vibrant against the snow, black hair and brown skin and green, green eyes. Jean used to make fun of him for his big, Disney green eyes, but only because he liked them so much. 

“Hey, aren’t you supposed to be wingmanning for me tonight?” Eren asked pensively, staring at the ground with his cigarette held limp between his fingers. He flicked his gaze up to glance at Jean, expression searching before he realised Jean was looking too and it changed to an easy smile.

Jean swallowed. “Thought you doubted my wingman talent.” He muttered, bringing his cigarette to his lips. Eren laughed, the sound warm and deep in the icy cold. “And unless you’re into elderly aunts, dude.”

Eren spluttered on a lungful of smoke, laugh-coughing into his fist as he shook his head. “It’s not _that_ dire out there, Kirschtein.”

Jean shrugged and glanced away. He didn’t like this conversation. He didn’t like the thought of Eren hooking up with some stranger. He tried to blame it on his drunkenness, on an overdose of Eren Jaeger, maybe. It couldn’t be healthy to spend more than a couple of hours in a confined space with him, right? Jean made a mental note to check that with Armin. 

“Alright, man?” Jean snapped out of his daze at the sound of Eren’s voice, and found him looking up at him, brow creased.

“I’m quite drunk.” Jean said carefully, studiously avoiding Eren’s gaze. “And cold.” He added, hunching his shoulders and frowning.

Eren raised his cigarette to his lips, blew a stream of smoke into Jean’s face and laughed when he spluttered.

“Finish up, then.” Eren said, tossing his butt onto the ground and standing. “It’s fucking freezing.”

Inside was like a sauna after being outside. Jean went to go look at Eren, to make sure he was still there, but was startled to find him gone. Looking up, he spotted Eren’s skinny figure weaving a path through the crush of people. He looked like he was headed for the bar, and the drunken part of Jean’s mind agreed that that was a very good idea on Eren’s part. 

Jean dragged his hands down his face, and then went to go follow him, wanting to get Eren out of his mind.

\-------

In retrospect, drinking more than he’d drunk in almost a _year_ probably hadn’t been the best idea Jean had ever come up with. 

“We’re too fucking old for this.” Eren groaned, laughing a little as he slung an arm around Jean’s shoulder as they attempted to ascend the stairs to their room.

“We should’ve taken the lift.” Jean muttered, clinging onto the handrail for dear life. He could _hear_ himself slurring, and wondered again why he had thought this was a good idea.

“Thanks, captain obvious.” Eren mumbled sardonically as they came to a halt in front of their room. Squinting, Jean tried to get the key into the lock, but it appeared to be moving out of the way every time he attempted to slot the key in. Eventually, (with no help from Eren, who was lounging against the doorframe with his face pressed into his forearm) Jean got it unlocked and they stumbled into the room, Eren knocking his hip on the dresser before tripping into Jean.

“Ouch.” He laughed, pressing his forehead against Jean’s collarbones, fingers curling in the front of Jean’s shirt. Jean looked down at the top of Eren’s head, looked around the room in desperation, back down to Eren’s unruly hair. 

“Uh.” He grunted intelligently. Eren just hummed and slid his hands up Jean’s chest and over his shoulders, linking his fingers behind Jean’s neck. “Eren, you should drink some water.” Jean said, steadying himself on the dresser as he stumbled a little, the room spinning. 

“We should dance.” Eren mumbled against his shirtfront, swaying a little as he hummed. Jean felt himself steadily sobering up, a knee-jerk reaction to Eren’s breath fanning hot across his throat, his thumbs stroking over Jean’s nape. He shivered and very carefully put his hands on Eren’s waist to push him away.

“I’m getting you a glass of water.” Jean said firmly, feeling his head clearing the longer Eren looked at him with those dark, heavy-lidded eyes. It was dim in the room, the only source of light a small bedside lamp they’d left on earlier. Eren’s skin seemed to glow in the low light, like burnished copper, and those eyes shone out of this face like something molten. Jean was captivated, and very, very drunk. He squeezed Eren’s waist, nodded at him to stay exactly where he was, then escaped to the bathroom.

He steadied himself on the sink, glanced at his reflection in the mirror; pink, flushed cheeks, pupils blown wide, hair dishevelled. He looked a mess. After a few minutes spent splashing water on his face and trying to get himself back into some semblance of order, Jean snatched one of the glasses by the sink and filled it. He zoned out for a second, thinking about the pout of Eren’s lips in the semi-darkness, the hot hands on the nape of Jean’s neck, and was jerked back to reality by the ice cold water spilling out of the glass and over his hand.

Eren was standing in the exact same place Jean had left him, tugging at his tie, jacket discarded on the bed. He took the glass of water, staring at Jean over the rim as he drank, eyes hot and heavy on him. Those green eyes that didn’t look so Disney in the intimate half-light of the hotel room. Especially when he tipped his head back to finish the glass, his throat bared, Adams apple moving as he swallowed. Jean’s mouth was very dry.

“I can’t do my tie.” Eren announced, putting the glass heavily down on the side and drawing the back of his hand over his mouth. Jean sighed and moved closer, squinting as he tried to focus on the knot to undo it.

“Can’t even undo your own tie.” He muttered, trying to distract himself from the hollow of Eren’s throat, his pulse jumping under dark skin just inches away. “You’re a mess, Jaeger.”

Eren didn’t say anything, and when Jean finally undid the tie and tossed it in the general direction of the bed, his hand snapped out to grip Jean around his wrist.

Jean frowned and tried to shake him off, but Eren held on tight, eyes burning into Jean’s. The atmosphere in the room thickened, and Jean felt a slow burn of heat go through him that had nothing to do with the alcohol. Eren was very close. “Eren?” 

Eren’s eyes fluttered shut at the sound of his name, and he tugged Jean nearer until they were so close Jean could feel Eren’s breath fanning across his lips.

Jean kissed him.

It was clumsy by drunkenness and barely held back desire. He bumped his nose against Eren’s, caught his lower lip between his. He was warm, and smelt of smoke and Jean went in for a better coordinated kiss that had Eren huffing out a little noise of appreciation against his mouth as he brought his free hand to Jean’s jaw, keeping him there. His fingers pressed into the soft skin under Jean’s ear, and his hand around Jean’s wrist tightened infinitesimally. 

“Oh.” Was all Eren said when they broke away, hand still warm on the side of Jean’s face. His eyes were still half-mast, lazy but intense on Jean. Jean moved away a little, unsure whether that was a positive reaction or not. His head was swimming, probably a result of the alcohol and the fact that Eren’s eyes were boring into him. “Okay.” Eren muttered, then cleared his throat. Jean made to move away, but Eren was already pulling him closer, lips slightly parted and his gaze heavy on Jean.  
They kissed, Eren nipping on the swell of Jean’s lower lip until Jean opened his mouth so Eren could curl his tongue against Jean’s. The taste of vodka was thick on Eren’s tongue and Jean found himself making these helpless little noises into Eren’s mouth as he pressed closer, free hand curling on Eren’s waist.

“Jean.” Eren mumbled against his lips, voice low. The catch in his voice went straight to Jean’s dick, a roughness that made him shiver. He pulled away slowly, eyes careful on Eren’s face. Eren was looking at his mouth, hair in his eyes, lips parted and pink. His hand was still around Jean’s wrist.

Jean wanted to kiss him again, kiss him until his head was swimming and all he could taste was Eren’s mouth. But Eren was stepping away, tugging Jean with him until the backs of his knees hit the bed and he fell backwards, pulling Jean with him.

“Oops.” He said breathlessly, giving Jean a little grin that dissolved into laughter as he wound his arms around Jean’s back. Jean laughed along, brushing his thumbs over Eren’s cheekbones and sinking his fingers in that mass of warm brown hair. 

Eventually Eren’s laughter trailed off, and left him grinning warmly at Jean, his hands hot on Jean’s back, trailing over his ribs and spine. Jean ducked to kiss him again, wondering if Eren could feel his heart thudding against his chest, wondering if Eren’s heart was thudding just the same.

“I knew you agreed to this too quick.” Eren mumbled lazily between kisses, gaze impish and amused as Jean made an indignant noise. “You want to know why I asked you of all people?” He asked, cocking his head to the side.

“Shoot.” Jean murmured against his throat where he was pressing languid little kisses to the skin there.

“I’ve had a thing for you since middle school.” He murmured, and smirked when Jean gave him a surprised look. “You know what they say,” He said, tipping his head to the side. “Boys always pick on girls they like.”

“Middle school?” Jean cried, momentarily distracted from the tempting stretch of Eren’s throat by this new information. He tried wildly to picture himself during middle school. “God, how?”

“You were the only one who contested the bullshit I came out with.” Eren said quietly. “Plus, you had a sweet Pokemon card collection.” He tipped a grin Jean’s way.

“God,” Jean muttered, realization dawning on him. “I’m the guy you like.” He thought of their conversation in the car, Eren laughing and telling him there was no way Jean could hook him up with the guy he liked. Eren just grinned. “Really?” Jean was intrigued. “Since middle school?”

Eren just shrugged. “I felt like I’ve never gotten closure on it. Maybe that’s why.”

“I couldn’t fucking stand you.” Jean snorted, and moved off of Eren to flop down next to him. He rolled onto his side so he could still see him, pillowed his head on his arm. “I just couldn’t understand you. You were so frustrating and pigheaded and-” He shook his head. “Man, I wanted to be you in high school so bad.” He knew he was too drunk for this conversation, knew he was going to end up confessing more than he’d like to. But hey, no one was more honest than a drunk, and Eren was a lot drunker than Jean was.

Eren just laughed. “Why on earth would you want to be me?” He asked, and then hummed. “I mean, apart from the obvious upgrade in looks.” He laughed when Jean punched him in the shoulder, then his expression turned serious. “Honestly, if we’re talking envy, I envied you a lot. You had the looks, the money, the smarts, the _girls_ ,” He smiled at that, as if to communicate how little he cared about _that_. “All I was ever good at was sports and then I went and busted my knee, so I didn’t even have that, then. God, I was so jealous of you.” He laughed self-deprecatingly. 

“You were the center of our little world, Eren.” Jean said, knowing it was true as the words rolled off his tongue. “Everyone looked to you for what to do, how to act.” He had been whip-thin and hotheaded, confident and bold and everyone’s friend. Even Jean, who just scowled and read books and said the wrong things. “You even managed to pull off the stoner-hippie thing you had going on.” Jean added, trying to lighten the mood a little. Eren laughed and murmured something indistinct. They lapsed into silence.

“My hip still hurts.” Eren muttered into the quiet. Jean, who had been drowsing fitfully, cracked an eye open warily. Eren was very close, curled on his side too, eyes on Jean’s mouth. “I think you should do something about it.”

A prickly wave of arousal washed over Jean as Eren pulled him closer by his hips, lips on his before Jean could even form half a word. His hands slid up Jean’s chest, brushing over his nipples before going for his buttons. He managed to clumsily unfasten two before Jean gathered his scattered brain cells and grabbed his wrists.

“You’re drunk.” Jean managed, pulling away from Eren’s lips reluctantly.

“I’m hard.” Eren breathed into Jean’s ear, making him shiver. He pressed against him to illustrate this, rolled his hips against Jean’s, prompting a half-moan from him.

“This is a bad idea.” Jean said unconvincingly, tipping his head back for Eren to bite at his throat.

“High school you would be very disappointed if you tap out now, Kirschtein.” Eren muttered, voice low and raw. 

“God, _Eren_.” Jean groaned, then rolled his hips back against the hard press of Eren, let go of his wrists and kissed him hungrily.

Eren had always been a fire in his lungs. Bright and blinding, bold and daring with a jerk of his chin and a ‘come and get me’ grin. He was all of these things and more, now. Needy and moaning against Jean’s mouth, those quick hands dancing over his chest and down to his belt buckle, under his pants and pressing against his hips. Heat, everywhere. That Jaeger warmth times a thousand, rivaling only the heat of Jean’s arousal heavy in his stomach. Jean gasped for air, pressed Eren back against the sheets and crawled down his body to press a bite to his hipbone.

“Not making it better.” Eren murmured teasingly, tipping his hips up a little. Jean looked up, dizzy on heat and the taste of Eren. How gorgeous he looked spread out on the bed, dark against the sheets, grinning down at Jean. Those green eyes dark and almost unsettling in their intensity. Jean pressed his lips to the jut of Eren’s hip, curled his tongue over the skin, slow. Sucked a rosy red mark and retreated, tugged Eren’s pants the rest of the way off. Eren was looking a little dazed, intense and horny and so, so _good_.

“You drive me crazy.” Jean hissed at him before pressing the heel of his hand against Eren’s dick through his underwear. Eren just gasped and bucked up into the touch, curled his fingers in Jean’s hair. Half of him was burning up with how much he wanted Eren, wanted to bite him, scratch him, swallow him down and keep him a secret only Jean knew about. The other half was too sober and warning, something about ruining a friendship, but Jean ignored it. It was easy to, with Eren laid out under him like this.

He kissed along Eren’s thighs, grinning into the taut muscle at the noises Eren made as he used his teeth. Eren’s legs weren’t as muscled as they’d been when he was eighteen, and Jean stopped at the crescent shaped scar on the inside of his knee and cupped his hand around the back gently. The tendons in the back of Eren’s knee tightened, and Jean ran his fingers down the curve of Eren’s calf.

“Still hurts?” He asked quietly, and Eren propped himself up on his elbows and nodded. His eyes were a little sad.

“Sometimes.” He said, then smiled half-heartedly. “C’mon, thought I drove you _crazy_.” His smile wavered as Jean pressed a gentle kiss to the scar, eyes locked with Eren’s. “Jean.” Eren said softly, watching as Jean littered kisses up his thigh until he got to the bulge in the front of Eren’s underwear and paused. 

“Yeah?” He murmured, tipping his head against Eren’s thigh. Eren looked at him for a minute, then snorted and fell back against the pillows.

“Just suck my dick.” He muttered, and Jean grinned against his leg.

“With pleasure.” He shot back, hooking his fingers under the waistband of Eren’s underwear to tug it off. 

Considering how drunk he was, considering how long it had been since Jean had last been this up close and personal with a dick that wasn’t his own; he did pretty well. He had Eren gasping and whining in the sheets, face half-shadowed by the heavy glow of the lamp and blank with pleasure. His fingers twitching in Jean’s over-long undercut, curving down his face and over his jaw to feel his lips around him. Jean felt drunk on the smell, the taste of Eren. The way his breath hitched as Jean swallowed around him, the way his bad leg shook the closer he got. 

“ _Jean_.” He moaned, almost reverently, as his hips twitched up into Jean’s mouth, once, twice, before he came with a shaky moan. Jean rubbed circles into his thighs as he shivered through his orgasm, fingers clenching almost painfully in Jean’s hair, back arched and head thrown back.

Eventually, Eren pushed Jean’s head away, too over-sensitive for the slow circles of Jean’s tongue over the head of his dick. Boneless, he flopped back into the pillows.  
“Holy shit.” He muttered blandly, and Jean snorted before moving to lay next to him. His eyes were turned up to the ceiling, glazed over and unseeing. Jean waved a hand in front of his eyes, making him snap back to reality as he curled into Jean’s side with a lazy groan. “You sucked my brain out through my dick.” He mumbled into Jean’s neck, hand trailing languidly down to the open fly of Jean’s pants. 

“You’re welcome.” Jean murmured, shifting around as he made himself comfortable, arching his hips up a little as Eren scratched his nails over his lower stomach and through his pubic hair. 

“Take your pants off.” Eren said softly, propping himself up on one elbow as Jean tugged his jeans down and off. Eren hummed and wrapped his fingers around Jean’s dick with a thoughtful expression. “You’ve got a nice cock.” He told him, then preceded to give Jean the best blowjob he’d received in his life.

“Why didn’t we do this sooner?” Jean asked emphatically, as Eren’s fingers made lazy circles on his stomach, his mouth hot and experienced around Jean’s dick. “I mean,” He cut himself off as Eren did something truly _miraculous_ with his tongue. “Holy shit.” Jean finished, stupidly, and Eren hummed in agreement. “You’re incredible.” Jean murmured tightly, then curled his fingers in Eren’s hair and came, arching off the bed as he pressed his face sideways into the bed, gasping. After, he rasped something wordless and pushed Eren’s head away, laughing a little as he ducked under Jean’s hand to press a kiss to Jean’s thigh.

“I know.” Eren said, a little while later after they’d curled up under the sheets together. Jean, who was hovering somewhere between a drunken doze and full wakefulness, grunted questioningly. “That I’m _incredible_.” Eren murmured teasingly, raising his head off Jean’s chest to brush his lips over Jean’s. Jean just snorted and settled back into the pillows, tracing nonsense patterns into the skin of Eren’s back. He was so _tired_ , vodka always made him sleepy, but Eren seemed in the mood for chatting. Some fossilized memory told Jean that he always got like this on vodka, but a lot of good it did him at that moment. Instead, he just settled for listening with closed eyes, humming when a reply was needed. 

“You know,” Eren began, then shifted a little to get more comfortable, throwing his arm over Jean’s stomach and tucking his face against the side of Jean’s neck. “Jean, d’you wanna know why we didn’t hook up before now?”

“Because you’re incapable of enjoying the afterglow?” Jean mumbled, chuckling as Eren pinched his hip.

“ _No_.” He said, and god, Jean could practically hear his scowl. “It’s because if we’d gotten together when we were like, eighteen, we never would’ve lasted.”

Jean laughed sleepily and curled around Eren a little more, enjoying his warmth, his smooth skin. “You’re probably right.” He murmured, thinking of how fucking _aggro_ the both of them had been back then. 

“We’ve done a lot of growing up.” Eren said softly, and kissed Jean’s throat as he hummed thoughtfully.

“I wouldn’t flatter yourself Jaeger.” He teased, and laughed when Eren made an irritated noise and went to go punch him on the arm. Jean grabbed his wrist to stop him, slid his hand down to Eren’s and linked their fingers together. “So, what?” He said, squeezing Eren’s fingers, “You wanna last?”

Eren, who’d gone all limp and soft when Jean had grabbed his hand, nuzzled his face into Jean’s neck. “Maybe.” He mumbled, then pulled back to frown at him. “You know, I don’t do this with just anyone.”

Jean smirked, rubbed his thumb over the back of Eren’s hand. “What, suck their dicks? Because, well-”

Eren gave him a disparaging look. “No, Jean. Ask them to a wedding, book them in to a _really_ nice hotel room, cuddle afterwards…do you want me to go on?”

“Nah, you’re fine.” Jean murmured, drawing the covers higher over them as he sunk further down into the pillows, Eren in his arms. Sleep was tugging at the edges of his brain again, and he pressed an absent kiss to Eren’s forehead. “I’m about to fall asleep anyway.”

“Vodka always makes you sleepy.” Eren said softly, almost tender, and Jean smiled into his hair.

“I know.” He said, and the last thing he remembered before he fell asleep was Eren hitching his leg over Jean’s hip, pressing a little kiss to his throat.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so that's it! thank you for reading/i hope u liked it/comments are appreciated!
> 
> btw you can find me on tumblr @ girlshinji if you want to keep up with fic [thumbs up emoji]


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